


Crocket and the Witch

by BiologicalExperiment



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 23:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12970317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiologicalExperiment/pseuds/BiologicalExperiment
Summary: I have a game I play where I craft a story out of a handful of key words. The selection for this tale consisted of: mirror, creek, blade, and salamander. It's a fun little read about a crow, witch, and, of course, salamanders.





	Crocket and the Witch

"An eye of a newt, the web of a spider, a leg of a frog, and the tongue of a salamander," the witch spoke out loud. With each ingredient read from her scroll book, which was propped open against a pair of shrunken skulls, a gnarled hand reached into the corresponding jar to move the desired tidbit into the boiling pot stewing in front of her.

It wasn't until she reached the last jar, which contained her collection of salamander tongues that the witch actually looked at where she was placing her hand. Instead of clutching about a slimy muscle, the gnarled hand grasped at nothing but air. Confused, the witch lifted the jar to her face; her eyesight shot from the hours spent pooling over the old tombs. Peering through the thick lenses she was forced to wear during her incantations, the witch shook the jar before turning it on end. Still, nothing but wisps of air escaped the glass container.

"Crocket!" The witch bellowed, causing the assortment of jars, containers, and baskets of herbs to rattle about the room as speckles of dust fluttered from the ceiling above.

"Y-yes?" an old crow croaked as he hobbled his way into the witch's line of sight, all the while making sure to stay out of her grasp. Blind she might be, but she wasn't weak on no means. The crow recalled the last time she captured him in her clawed grasp. He had missing feathers for a month.

"Where are my salamander tongues?!" the witch demanded.

"Ah, yes. About those, well, you see," Crocket stuttered as he racked his brain in an attempt to come up with a good excuse. In truth, he had grown hungry the other night and instead of going out into the cold air for his meal, he had raided the witch's collection. Unfortunately for Crocket, the salamander tongues had tasted particularly good when drizzled with in the venomous slime of the cone snail, causing him to devour the entire jar instead of the couple as he had originally intended. However, Crocket couldn't tell the witch such a thing.

"Listen here, dearie," the witch threatened as if she knew his very thought. Hefting a blade off the table, milky eyes turned their attention to the shaking crow. "If you do not fill this jar by the third moon rise, I shall find a way to make your old bones work for this recipe. Now scat, you mangy bird!"

With that, the blade flew towards its mark. Barely hopping out of the knife's way, Crocket let out a reproachful caw before taking to the sky. Angling out the open window, the crow fled to the woods and away from the crazed woman.

"Warm cottage or no, that woman is nuts," Crocket mumbled to himself.

If he could, he would fly away and be done with her. However, because he had been a young fool, Crocket had become enslaved to the old witch when he tried to run off with her trinkets that had been hanging in the lawn to dry. It wasn't his fault that they had been shinny and glittered beneath the sun's golden rays. On most accords, only linen was left dangling in the breeze; this crow had no interest in such things and would have been safe. However, to be tempted and ensnared by items that shimmered like false gold? He couldn't resist. He was after all, only a crow.

With a sigh, Crocket made his way to the creek bed below. It was where he would find the witch's new collection of salamanders. Beneath the moon's rays, the salamanders would come out to dance and play. Unique to their kind, the salamanders that the witch required were cunning and mischievous little buggers. However, catch one, and you caught them all for they would multiply in the morning light; it was why they only came out to play after the sun set.

Landing in a branch, Crocket settled down to wait. He was in no rush for the time being. The witch had given him until the third moon rose to return with the collection. Glancing up through the trees, the first moon was only breaking the horizon and it would be a while yet before the other two joined its brethren in the sky.

Nodding off in the cold night air, Crocket huddled against the tree trunk as the first moon was joined by the second one. Still, there was no sight of the salamanders. About to give up his perch in search for another, the old crow heard a snap below. Peering down through the branches, Crocket performed a silent jig in joy. There, slipping out of the water below, was a salamander. Taking aim, the crow jumped off the branch and dropped like a rock falling from the sky.

Because the salamanders were sly and quick, Crocket knew that he wouldn't be able to fly down and snatch the creature at leisure. Before he would so much as spread his legs, the salamander would have disappeared back into the depths of the creek bed. Instead, Crocket had discovered early on that he must drop from the branches like a new born fledgling and nearly land bottom up on the slippery reptilian. Relying on experience alone, Crocket did just so.

Landing upon the salamander before he was much the wiser, the crow knocked the creature unconscious. Hopping up in glee, Crocket struggled to clutch the shimmering salamander in his talons before taking to the sky. He had been lucky this round. Whilst the young were bright, red, and easy to spy, the old faded into a black with speckles of electric and midnight blue. The combination allowed the creatures to blend into the creek bed and hide from the prey.

Crocket had always wondered why it wasn't the opposite, for it would ensure that the young survived. Over the years he simply figured that it enabled the weak to be plucked away while the cunning thrived. Not caring one way or another, the crow angled his way back to the cottage to deliver the first salamander required. Thankfully he had captured a rather large one, so his tongue should fill up the jar rather nicely, making his task that much easier. Unfortunately, the witch wanted the entire jar full by the third moon and so he would have to fetch more than one instead of simply wait for him to multiply on his own.

As he flew silently beneath the cloudy night, Crocket became aware that his hostage was starting to wake.

"W-where?" came a pain filled groan as the salamander came to.

"Where what, sir?" Crocket inquired. He had also discovered early on that it was best to be polite when dealing with a salamander. They tended to play less pranks and not mess with one's thoughts if so. Perhaps if he answered a simple question the salamander would merely accept his fate and he'd be rid of the fellow in no time at all.

"Where are we going?"

"To the cottage," Crocket explained.

"Why so?"

"Your presence is required," Crocket simply stated.

He didn't have the heart to tell the poor soul that his tongue would soon belong to the witch. Silver in design and in skill, the power of a salamander's tongue was widely known. It was, after all, where their guile was kept. Remove the tongue and its skill in speech were yours.

"The only cottage I know of is that of the witch's," the salamander remarked after a short pause.

Instead of replying, Crocket remained quiet.

"Is that where we are bound?" the salamander inquired once more.

"Yes," Crocket finally admitted.

"What is your name, good crow?" the salamander suddenly asked.

Caught off guard by the change in topics, Crocket simply blinked as his flight paused when his wings hitched in surprise. There was nothing wrong with being friendly, was there? Unable to help himself, the crow answered the question.

"Um, Crocket."

"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you, Crocket. My name is Cornelius Montezuma Highpie (hy-pee) Woozeel the third, but you may call me Corny. All my friends do," Corny smiled up at Crocket.

"Friends?" Crocket repeated.

"Why yes! Would you like to be friends?" Corny inquired hopefully.

"Well. I've never had a friend before," Crocket admitted. And, in truth, he hadn't, not since he was a nestling. Ever since enslaved by the witch, he had never been allowed out besides to hunt and do her biddings.

Gasping in shock, Corny shook his head. "That will just not do, Crocket! Please, do let us be friends. I'll tell you what, my good crow. As a show of sincere friendship, I want to give you a gift."

"A gift?" Crocket blinked. He had never been given a gift before. "What for?"

"To show no hard feelings on whereto I am to be taken," Corny smiled again.

Hesitantly and after much deliberation, Crocket finally agreed. "Well, okay. What is it?"

"If you don't mind angling back towards the creek a little bit down yonder, I will gladly show you. I'm positive you will like it, immensely so," the salamander assured.

Turning his head to look out into the distance, Crocket hesitated once again. He could see the smoke curling up from the cottage below. Angling his head up, beady black eyes stared silently at the twin moons. The third would be rising soon and he had only gathered one salamander. If he took this detour, he might not be able to meet the witch's demands on time. After much debate, Crocket finally angled his wings and drifted back towards the creek.

"You aren't planning to escape, now, are you?" Crocket inquired as they grew closer.

"Of course not!" Corny cried in outrage. "We are friends, are we not? Why would I run from a friend?"

It made sense to Crocket. Inhaling deeply, the crow took the plunge and descended back into the branches of the trees. As he grew closer to the water's edge, he released his hold in order to land on the tree roots below. Much to Crocket's surprise, Corny simply slithered out of his way but did not disappear.

"You didn't run," Crocket stated in surprise.

"Of course not," Corny smiled. "When a salamander gives his word, he is bound to it."

"Oh."

"Now, if you would be so kind as to wait, I will be back with your gift in just a moment and then we can be off once more." Before Crocket could reply or have a second thought about the matter, Corny disappeared into the depths of the water below, much to Crocket's chagrin.

Pacing back and forth, the old crow fretted about. He had not only lost the salamander, but had lost time in fetching more by coming to the creek instead of to the cottage as he should have. Soon the third moon would rise and he would have to return empty talon. Not only that, but the witch was bound to figure out what happened. Waiting a bit longer, Crocket was finally forced to move on. He simply couldn't wait any longer.

About to take off to suffer his consequences, Crocket heard a splash from below. Glancing down, black eyes peered into a smooth surface of the water. No ripple could be seen, despite the splash he had heard. Similarly, his image and that of the foliage surrounding him was clearer than ever. It wasn't until he pulled his eyes away from the beady black orbs below that Crocket took in the cracked and faded wood encasing the body of water and beside it, a smiling salamander.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Corny stated.

"She?" Crocket repeated, confused. How could water and wood be a she?

"Yes, she. It's a mirror," Corny explained while climbing out of the water to perch on the frame.

"A mirror?"

"Yes, like a looking glass."

"What's a looking glass?" Crocket asked, become more baffled by the moment.

"Have you never seen a one?" Corny inquired, clearly puzzled. "I thought you lived with the witch. Surely she has one about."

"No. I don't recall her having one. How do you get the water to remain so calm?" Crocket inquired in turn as he gazed back down at the reflection below him.

"Oh, that's no water. That is glass," the salamander chuckled.

"Glass?"

"Well, yes. But, never you mind. There will be plenty of time to explain the workings of it later. All you need to know is that this mirror will grant you your deepest desire," Crocket explained.

"How so?"

"Why, you simply have to present the mirror to the witch and she will set you free."

Startled, Crocket let go of the mirror and jumped back a few roots. "How do you know about the witch?" Crocket demanded.

"They do not call us the wisest of the creek for naught, my good friend," Corny smiled. "After all, why else would you be taking me to the cottage if you weren't bound to her?"

"This will really set me free?" Crocket finally whispered.

"Yes, but you must hurry. It only works beneath the light of the triple moon. You must present it to her and have her look upon the glass," Corny urged. "Come now, we must hurry and be on our way."

Shuffling about, Crocket managed to wrap his talons about the mirror. It was only then that he realized the actual size and weight of the contraption. He would be able to take either the mirror or Corny back with him. Hesitating, Crocket lingered where he stood.

On one hand, he could take Corny back and give him and his tongue to the witch and be scolded for not filling the jar as directed. In order to do so, he would have to leave the mirror and fetch it later on. There was a chance the mirror wouldn't disappear, but Crocket was too weary to press his luck. On the other hand, by taking the mirror, he would have to leave Corny behind. His concern then rested in whether the mirror would actually do the trick. But, a friend wouldn't lie to another friend, would they? He really did like having a friend and didn't want to be without. It was on that note, thinking of the fact that he now had a friend that Crocket made up his mind.

"Corny," Crocket began.

"Yes, my good crow?"

"I'm sorry, but you cannot come."

"Why ever not?" Corny inquired, crestfallen.

"I cannot carry you and the mirror back, together. Even if I could, I would not take a friend to the witch," Crocket confided. "If I do, she will cut out your tongue, so you must stay here," the old crow pleaded. How could he sacrifice his only friend, especially when that friend had given him the answer to his problems?

"Oh, I see," Corny whispered. "Does that mean I will not see you again?"

"I will come back to the creek as soon as I give the witch the mirror!" Crocket promised.

"Well, in that case, how about I prepare a feast to celebrate?" Corny offered, smiling up at Crocket.

"I would like that," Crocket smiled back. "Now, I must be off. Thank you, Corny, thank you!"

"Fly fast, Crocket!" Corny cheered as the crow took to the sky.

Ecstatic over the turn of events, Crocket flew straight towards the plume of smoke in the distance. Feeling younger and more optimistic than he had in the longest of whiles, Crocket reached his destination in no time. Landing hap hazardously on the roof, Crocket made his awkward way down to the window ledge and into the cottage while struggling to balance the mirror all the while.

"Crocket!"

Cringing, the crow nearly dropped the mirror as the witch snapped from the other room.

"Coming," Crocket called.

Heaving a sigh, Crocket braced himself for what was to come. All he had to do was present the mirror to the witch, Corny had said, and his deepest desire would be granted. Hobbling along, Crocket made his way to the witch.

"Where are those tongues, Crocket!" the witch demanded.

"I, well, I," Crocket stuttered.

"Stop your cackling and give them to me, you helpless bag of feathers!"

"I-" before he could reply, Crocket felt the mirror wrenched out of his grasp by the witch and held aloft.

"This is no jar of salamander tongues!" Shaking the mirror, the witch's milky gaze glared in the general direction of the crow shrinking into the shadows.

"I-I know."

"Where are my salamander tongues!? I gave you a simple task and you have failed once again!"

"But, it's a magic-" Crocket croaked, unable to finish the sentence before he was cut off.

"Magic? Ha! This thing has no more magic in it than you, my dear old crow," the witch cackled in glee, humored by such a simplistic notion.

"It does!" Crocket argued. His desperation at this point caused him to find a minute spine. "You only have to look at it beneath the triple moonlight," Crocket explained.

Continuing to laugh, the witch waved a gnarled limb in front of her milky gaze as if to dismiss such a notion. "And what good will that do, my dear Crocket? Has your feathered brain been filled with too much hot air, flying about in the tree tops?"

"N-no!"

"Fine, I shall humor you this once."

Shifting about, the witch hobbled her way into the light shimmering beneath the moon and glanced into the mirror before turning a cold glare at the cowering crow. "Now, see, you brainless fool, you have wasted my time and the precious time available tonight to fetch me more salamanders. Now I must wait another ni-" The witch's rant was cut short, however as milky eyes turned brown.

"What is this?" Frantic, the witch glanced at the object in her hand before a piercing scream erupted from her lips.

"You fiend! How dare you bring a mirror into my abode?!"

Lunging at a confused crow, the witch dropped the mirror in disgust. It was the one thing that could do her undoing; it was why she banned them from her cottage and was careful as to where she went when going out. Beneath the sound of shattering glass, cracks and cries of pain echoed throughout the cottage. Gnarled hands, about to lock about Crocket's neck, turned into feathers, whilst Crocket felt his body stretch and bend uncomfortably.

Before Crocket could scream out in pain, feathers fell away to be replaced by a black robe. As the ceiling dust settled from the commotion within, bird and human stared at one another, shocked. Where the witch stood was a gnarled crow, and in Crocket's place was a wizard. Patting himself from face to toe, Crocket jumped in glee.

"I'm free! I'm free!" Crocket shouted in delight. "Never again, you old hag; I will never listen to another word you demand!" With that, Crocket raced out of the cottage as a man half his age. However, before he could get far, Crocket rammed into an invisible barrier surrounding the property. "What is this?"

"You silly, crow," the witch cackled in glee as she hobbled out of the cottage behind the fake wizard. "Although you have swapped our bodies, you will never be free of me."

"I will, you horrible woman!" Crocket screamed. Through his desperation, magical energy that had not previous existed erupted from his limbs and destroyed the barrier keeping him from escaping. His shock lasted only a moment before Crocket ran awkwardly on two legs.

Running into the woods, Crocket made his way to the stream, shouting for his salamander friend. Up and down the creek, the wizard raced, but it wasn't until night had fallen that he recalled that he had to wait for the moon's rays to entice out the reptiles. By the time the salamanders made their appearance, Crocket had fallen asleep in the roots of a tall willow tree.

Slithering his way up to Crocket, Corny shook his head in dismay as he came into sight of the human fast asleep. "Silly, Crocket. Merely swapping places with the witch will not set you free. But, because of your sacrifice, you have set us salamanders free. No longer will the witch hunt us for our tongues."

Placing a silver locket about the man's neck, Corny patted the man's hand with his own, leaving a trace of slime in its wake. Corny had known that Crocket would be true of heart when he had agreed to be friends, and thus had given the mirror to the crow on purpose. It was the only way both the crow and his salamander brethren would be free of the witch. Witches never kept mirrors about, for if they did they would become what they most feared. In this scenario, to be trapped and helpless.

By the time Crocket woke, he would be a crow once more thanks to the silver locket and could truly be on his way. However, Corny could not stay and inform Crocket when he woke. With a sad sigh, the salamander bid his new friend ado and disappeared back into the creek; he had a witch to deal with at the cottage. He must get rid of the mirror before the witch could figure out a way to repair it and reverse the spell. As for the crow, Corny knew that they would meet again another day. In the meantime, he would let the crow ponder about what had happened and let him wonder if it was all just a dream.

Fin.


End file.
